


Legacy of the Light

by may_i_have_this_wish



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: A serious Matt the Radar Technician fic, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Kendria Calrissian kicking ass in the resistance, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Multi, Oblivious Hux, Undercover, jedistormpilot, no love triangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/may_i_have_this_wish/pseuds/may_i_have_this_wish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kendria Calrissian went undercover at the First Order's base, she had known the risks. She had expected she would have to dodge one Ben Solo, she had expected she would have to think on her feet and lie through her teeth. What she had not expected was to find that very same Ben Solo squinting down at from beneath a truly absurd mop of blond hair, introducing himself as Matt. </p>
<p>A serious Matt the Technician fic that moves far beyond that single premise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy of the Light

When Kendria Calrissian had agreed to go undercover at the planet base of the First Order, she had known the risks. She had known Ben would be there, she had known that she might be found, that she might be killed or worse. She had known that the Force would be her enemy, that even though she worked and worked to hide her signature, both her and Leia were untrained and hiding from her was quite different than hiding from Ben. 

What she did not expect, however, was to find him crouched and cursing on the floor in front of her, trying to wrangle his absurdly long form into an electric panel.  
"Do you need a hand?" she asked, unable to see his face.

He huffed loudly, and wiggled out so he was staring up at her with a less than friendly expression. He looked ridiculous, and if it hadn’t been such an enormous wrench in her plans, she would have laughed. He was clearly undercover--oversized glasses, smeared and crooked, were perched on his nose and his hair was close cropped and blond. A wig no doubt. He was as vain about his hair as both his parents put together.

She had figured he would be easy to avoid, what with the mask and cloak bit. The storm troopers and other workers she had talked to all tried to avoid him like the plague. But no, he had to be undercover as well. Was she that easily discovered? She had thought her plan to get on the ship was seamless. Or maybe he was looking for someone else? Or maybe it was for another purpose entirely. 

Anyway she cut it, the effect was the same. She was pretty sure her heart had stopped. The last time they had seen each other they had been ten. But there was always the force. If he didn’t recognize her face, he probably felt her. And she should have recognized him dammit. She might have been untrained but by the maker she knew how he felt. She cursed herself for not recognizing him. But she didn't dare focus on trying to feel him better in his presence, she was constantly pushing that part of herself away for the sake of remaining undetected. 

"Maybe," he grumbled. His voice was deep and gravely. She examined him, working to keep her face neutral. He was tall and well built. He was pale, almost sickly pale. His eyes were dark and brooding, nestled under a strong brow bone and thick brows. His nose was straight and sever, jutting out from his face sharply. His lips were wide and full, perched above a rounded chin and angled jaw. Handsome like his father but with a delicacy of features that spoke of his mother. He had grown into his nose, but with the wig his ears still stuck out terribly. She shoved away the emotions she didn't want to acknowledge. She hadn't actually had a plan for encountering him. She figured that would mean mission failure. She hadn't wanted to encounter him. She’d never seen his adult face and the sight of him now, grown and glowering sent a pang through her chest that made his betrayal seem fresh once again. 

"What are you trying to do here?" She asked, crouching next to him. He was staring at her and her heart began to pound, heat rising to her cheeks. She despised the intensity with which his eyes roved over her face. But he apparently didn’t find what he was looking for and turned away. 

"Rewire the circuit," he sat up, crowding next to her and pointing.

"Okay, so the blue wire goes here," she corrected him, fixing the mistake, "and the red and the green are reversed."  
He watched her hands intensely, dark eyes brooding. Even at five he had been good at brooding. Blast him and his brooding.  
"That should do it," she smiled, standing up and brushing her hands off.

He nodded, reattaching the panel covering, "Thank you," he said quietly, "I'm Matt. Matt the radar technician." He offered his hand.

"Nice to meet you Matt, I'm Liz. The radar technician." She shook his large, icey hand. Standing he was at least a foot taller than her. Distantly she remembered gloating it over him that she was taller than he was when they were little. But it was time to ditch him. "I'm on my lunch break now, so I'd better get going-"

"What a coincidence, so am I. I heard," he gave her a dry smile she didn't quite understand, "there were muffins."

She swallowed, but couldn't very well refuse without causing a scene. He must recognize her. He must. Even if it had been almost twenty years, he must. 

"Alright," she smiled tightly, following him to the mess hall.

The mess hall, out of everything else on this base, was what unnerved her most. This was the only place, other than the bunks, where the storm troopers took their helmets off. The white, blank faced soldiers suddenly gave way to grins and jokes and real human faces. It was all Kendria could do not to think about her body count. War was war, but it was different to live amongst and befriend your enemy. 

Ben, or rather "Matt" was less than chatty. Which Kendria wasn't protesting one bit. They picked up their trays and collected their food in silence. She looked around the cafeteria, searching for a face she knew that wasn't Ben's.

FN-2187 beamed at her from across the room, lifting an arm in greeting, "Hey Liz," he called happily.

"Hey," she responded, waving, "C'mon Matt, over here." His heavy brow furrowed, but he followed all the same.

“How’s it going?” She asked, sliding in across from the trooper. 

“Great! Beat my last score with on the blaster range. How about you?” He dug into his food with gusto  
.  
“Fixed the problem with the lights in the eastern hallway, and- oh wait,” she paused, turning to her former best friend, “This is Matt, he’s another tech like me.”

“Hi there,” 8-7 said, unsure at the dour look on Matt’s face. 

“Hi.” He didn't say anything else. 8-7 looked at her, eyebrow quirked, and she shrugged in response.

“So where are you from Matt?” 8-7 asked. Thank goodness he could keep a conversation going. Her heart hadn't stopped pounding since she saw Ben’s face. She had no idea what to say to him. It felt completely wrong to make small talk with him. 

“Tatooine,” he said shortly, “Very hot. Very dry.”

“Wow you guys are from the same planet!” 

She and Matt exchanged a glance. Of course they both had the same cover story. Of course. Why wouldn't the situation decline any more. 

“What a coincidence,” she chuckled, keeping her voice easy. 

“Indeed.”

She looked away and quickly filled her mouth with cafeteria mush so she wouldn't have to speak.

“Do you think you guys have ever met?”

“Probably not,” Matt shrugged, “it's a big planet.” Kendria nodded in agreement. 

“It would have been so cool though,” 8-7 sighed, rising, “I’ve got to get back to work now, see you tomorrow!” He waved and left the table. And Kendria was left with her former best friend turned dark side murderer. 

“So Tatooine,” he said casually, “are you as happy to be off of it as I am?” 

She laughed, “Yeah, it's nice not finding sand in every possible place.” 

He chuckled, “Sand is awful.”

As far as she knew, neither she nor he had ever actually been to the Skywalkers’ home planet. Most of Luke’s descriptions had included complaining about sand or sand people or sad, mournful looks out into the distance. 

“Oh!” Her pager buzzed, lighting up with the phrase “Western Corridor”. 

“I had better get going, duty calls,” she smiled pleasantly, desperately grateful for the excuse to leave him. 

“I’m being summoned as well, west corridor?” He looked at her expectantly, a small smile curling the edges of his mouth. 

She couldn't catch a break today.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't decided exactly who's pov this will be from, but I do have a basic plot for this thing. Possibly. Probably.


End file.
